Not As Planned
by Simon920
Summary: Nightwing, injured and unable to trust his friends, needs help.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimers: These guys aren't mine, they don't belong to me, worst luck, so don't bother me.

Archive: Fine, but if you want it, please ask first.

Feedback: Hell, yes.

**Not As Planned**

Disappointed, she finally got up when the lights were turned off, leaving only the few ghost lights for safety. There was no sign of the bus which was late or maybe wasn't coming. She was tired and it had been a shitty day, both shifts. She had her car here, she did, but she'd promised her brother she'd leave it for him; he wanted to drive upstate for the weekend, he had a girlfriend.

She made her way outside to get a cab but she'd been asked to take out the trash (not part of her job description) and exited from the back of the building, near a darkened loading dock and, sighing, started to walk around to the front entrance.

He was standing there, alone, under a street lamp. No one else was around, they'd all gone home or wherever.

Impossible, her mind was playing tricks on her. There was no reason in the world why...

He was there, leaning against his motorcycle, the one with his logo on it, fiddling with something on the engine, trying to get it started from the look of things.

She watched him for a long moment, about to start over to him, to talk to him when she suddenly pulled back into the shadow thrown by the building itself. A car squealed around the corner, headed straight for him, straight for Nightwing, sideswiping him before he had time to react. The car didn't slow as it rounded a delivery truck double parked a few yards away, disappearing as she stared in horror.

The car struck Nightwing, hurling him into the air, slamming him into and over the cab of the truck then sliding to the ground on the near side, between the truck and a line of parked cars.

Jesus.

Running over, looking quickly around and seeing no one, she knelt down. "Shh, don't move, let me see how badly you're hurt." Maybe one or two of the doctors in the clinic were still there. They were all plastic surgeons, but they were still doctors and maybe they could help.

His mask was knocked off, his eyes slitted partially opened, his only response to groan and slightly writhe into a slightly more comfortable position.

"You need help, I think you have some broken bones and maybe..." She trailed off, thee was no need to frighten him—assuming he could hear her. She started up to go inside but his hand on her arm stopped her. Pulling out her cell phone she was about to hit 911 when he reached, well gestured, toward her. It was all it seemed he could manage.

"No, don't."

"You need help."

"No hospital; they'll find me and follow you. You'll be killed for trying to help."

"No, I'll be fi..."

"No. 'Safe house. Please."

She had no way to move him, he weighed too much for her to move, especially injured like this. She'd make the injuries worse and she wasn't a doctor, she didn't know what to do for him. She had to get help. Professional help.

"I'll call the Justice League or one of your friends, they'll..."

"No. No one. Trust no one." Another spasm of pain went through him. "'Safe house; they'll be back."

Her car was parked a few dozen yards away, she brought it closer and—somehow—maneuvered him in, lying across the back seat, the hell with her brother. "Where?"

"31 Heigh Street, go around back through the alley." It wasn't far, she did as he asked.

"Now what?" There was nothing there, just garbage cans and a couple of dumpsters under a single maybe forty watt bulb mounted on the brick wall.

"Tap the brick to the right of the bulb two times." He was having trouble speaking; she followed his directions. A garage door hidden behind a weathered and tattered sign advising readers to drink 'Pepsi—for those who think young!'slid opened. Driving down a ramp, the door closed behind them, lights came on and they were in a clean, ordered, well lit garage. A standard sized fire door was along one wall. "The code is 74369."

Looking, she found the keypad, the door clicked unlocked and she pulled it open. More lights came on automatically. Inside was a small, clean and well-organized one bedroom apartment.

"Help me."

She jumped at his voice within inches of her ear. Bleeding, in pain, he'd gotten himself out of the car and next to her without her hearing him. Arm carefully around his waist, he leaned heavily on her as she helped him to the double bed, lifting his legs for him and carefully placing a lightweight down comforter over him. He hissed out his pain with his breath.

"Where is the first aid?" Not that he didn't still need a well equipped ER, but she'd do the best she could.

There was no answer; he was asleep, unconscious or dead.

No, he had a pulse.

Checking closer and trying not to cause him any added pain, she found a large, frighteningly well stocked and obviously used first aid kit with scissors to cut off his clothing.

There was relatively little blood but his chest was massively bruised and she could see at least four ribs out of alignment. His right shoulder looked like it had taken a major hit or perhaps he'd landed on it when he was thrown. There was a bloody scrape around his right temple which was till oozing a trickle of blood down his cheek.

Feeling as gently as she could, she probed his chest and abdominal area; the ribs were broken, she was as sure as she could be. He might have some internal damage, possibly around his liver area and there was a fair to good chance of concussion. And his shoulder didn't seem broken or even dislocated, but there was a good chance of tendon or ligament damage.

But she knew she might have missed any number of things without tests of any kind. He needed more help than she could give him here. She started when he seemed to read her thoughts, she hadn't noticed his eyes had opened.

"No, I can't leave here. They're waiting for that."

"You need a doctor, I'm just a PN (practical nurse). Let me call someone."

"You can do this. Please." His energy seemed exhausted as his eyes closed again.

What, did he think she was just going to walk out and leave him? With no real choice, taking the medical kit, she began to do what she could.

* * *

><p>It was a long night. Nightwing was restless, talking in his sleep and in obvious pain but she was afraid to give him anything stronger than Tylenol. She wasn't a doctor, she wasn't even an RN; she was just a PN; her usual job was to make appointments, take vitals and hand the chart over to the doctor when he was ready. That was it. Dealing with a hero suffering from potentially serious injuries was beyond her and she couldn't understand why he refused to allow her to call for help. Surely the Justice League or the Titans or Batman, for goodness sake, would be there in seconds to relieve her and make sure he had whatever he needed.<p>

She couldn't do this alone, she didn't know how and she was frightened. She was one of those people who liked to live a quiet life, go to work, maybe see a movie or have a nice dinner with friends. Life and death was for other people, that's why she worked for plastic surgeons; almost no one died from a boob job.

She came close to calling; it was about four in the morning and he was moaning, groaning and in serious distress, more than she could bear. Cell phone in hand, the light made him open his eyes. "No. Don't. If they know I'm alive we'll both be killed; you don't understand."

"Who will kill us?" He was probably hallucinating or dreaming. No one had any reason to kill her, she wasn't important.

"The League."

"Which League?" The League of Villains? The League of Interplanetary Bad Guys?

"The Justice League."

"But—I'll call the Titans, they're your friends. They'll help us."

"No, they're in on it, too."

"But how...?"

"Don't call, don't leave here. It's both our lives."

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

**Part Two**

Nightwing only really woke up once during the night but four extra strength Tylenols, a heating pad and soothing words lulled him back to sleep, much to her surprise. With injuries like his, she was amazed he could sleep at all, but it did seem to help, at least a little.

Around four his cell phone went off. Going through his clothing (she had stripped him down to his thong underwear), she had found the top of the line device vibrating and softly playing the theme from that old tacky, camp TV show about Batman and Robin. Not answering, she saw the call was from Arsenal. Wasn't he a member of the Titans or whatever they were calling themselves now? Maybe not, maybe he was in the Justice League or that new group—what were they called? Outsiders, that was it? Maybe he was one of them. It didn't matter, they were friends, weren't they? That's what she'd always heard, anyway. They'd been in the Teen Titans together years ago, back when they were kids. They'd grown up together, worked together and there were even rumors that Robin—who everyone said grew up to be Nightwing—had somehow saved Arsenal's life when he was, what was it? He was an alcoholic or a druggie or something, wasn't that it? Something like that.

He'd help, she was sure of it. She was about to answer when the ringing stopped.

Maybe he'd call back, try again later. Checking Nightwing's vitals and finding them stable, she made herself as comfortable as she could in a chair and tried for a few minutes sleep. It seemed like this was SOP for him, but it sure as hell wasn't for her.

She was disoriented when she woke up. There was a small nightlight in a wall outlet but no light coming through the curtained window and she couldn't see a clock from where she was sitting, cramped, in a chair. Nightwing's cell phone told her it was ten-seventeen, AM.

'Ohmigod, Nightwing.'

She checked her patient, his eyes—an almost unnatural blue shade that must have been contacts because no one had eyes that color—watching.

"Will I live?"

"For now. 'Anything I should know about; pain, nausea?"

"Nothing worth talking about."

"Do you think you could manage to eat anything? It might help."

"Tea, maybe, something light if there's anything."

She opened the curtains, hoping for sunlight but the fabric covered a blank wall and no framed glass. The kitchen was the same and she turned on the light to look for something for their breakfast. Tea bags, a kettle but no food.

"Try the freezer."

She did; a frozen loaf of bread, butter, some hamburger meat, a DiGiorno pizza and what looked like containers of some kind of homemade soup. Finding no toaster, she browned a couple of pieces of bread in a skillet, let the tea steep and finally brought it in to her patient along with three more extra strength Tylenols.

"What should I call you? Nightwing seems a little—weird."

He managed a small smile, maybe agreeing with her. "My friends sometimes shorten it to 'Wing."

"Your mother have a sense of humor or was she a hippie?"

"She was a—free spirit, I guess." He blew on the tea. "And you are...?"

"Patty—Patricia."

"Thank you, Patty-Patricia. I really needed your help last night; I'm in your debt."

"So where are your friends now? And why wouldn't you let me call them to help you? Or is it one of those things where if you tell me you'll have to kill me?"

He lost his smile as he sipped his tea. "Something like that."

"Who ran you down, do you know?"

He looked at the toast, smoothing a lump of butter with his finger then cleaning it off by putting it in his mouth. "I know."

"And?"

"I'd tell you but then I'd have to kill you." He tried for humor but neither was in the mood and it fell flat.

"Not funny."

He sniffed as though he had a slight runny nose. "No, it's not. Look, I know you want to know what's going on and you have a right to know but, really, it's better for you if you don't, okay?"

"Can I leave?"

He took a small bite of toast. "You can do whatever you want." Chew and swallow. "I don't think it's a good idea right now."

"Oh." Pause. "More tea?"

"Thank you and I need a computer."

"I saw a laptop in the other room, do you want me to get it?" She was in the doorway with the kettle.

Grimacing as he swung his legs over the side of the bed, he shook his head. "No, I need a new one, one that isn't registered anywhere, one with no history. I hate to ask, but I need you to go to one of those electronic stores downtown, one of the disreputable ones and get me a high power one."

"You just said it wasn't a good idea for me to leave."

"Yeah, okay." Staggering slightly as he moved about the room, he pulled some clean clothes from a small bureau; non-descript, generic things, jeans and a plain, dark green tee-shirt. Dressed quickly, he was at the main door. "I'll be back soon; stay here."

"Where are you going and what am I supposed to do while you're out getting killed or something?" There was no reason to open a debate about this, it was obvious that he was going to do what he was going to do and the fact that he should have been lying in a hospital bed wasn't going to slow him down. Besides, she hated pointless arguments.

"Read a book? Look, I'll be back soon, just chill, okay?"

Keeping off main streets and away from areas and places where someone—anyone—might notice him. Ignoring the pain, he walked the twelve blocks to a public library, logging onto a public computer.

In the apartment Patty tried to kill time until—or if—he got back. What the hell was going on here? Okay, he was attacked and hurt by some bad guys but that was what he did for a living, so nothing unusual about that. The thing she didn't understand was why all the cloak and dagger? Why couldn't he call his regular friends or back up for help? He didn't trust the JL or the Titans?

Were they nuts or was he?

Some weird shit was going down.

* * *

><p>"I don't care, find him."<p>

"You know as well as I do that if he doesn't want to be found, he won't be, simple as that. We have to wait until he comes out or makes a mistake."

"We don't have that much time."

"Oh, stop being melodramatic. He'll reveal himself soon enough, you know he will; he's incapable of staying hidden for long, he has to make a move."

"Begging to differ here but he's entirely capable of staying hidden as long as he wants to. And not that I think he'll screw up—let's not forget who we're talking about here—but assuming we wait him out, we'll be giving him time to set whatever plan he's working on into motion."

"We can contain him."

"So we hope."

"Of course we can."

"The last location we have on his is from the GPS on his bike; Bludhaven, 17th and Island Street. It was abandoned after being sideswiped by our operative. There were traces of blood on a nearby vehicle and some drops on the pavement which abruptly stopped at what we assume was a parked car. The presumption is that's how he left the scene."

"Any information on the escape vehicle?"

"We're checking satellite photos, local security cameras and the plates of every car registered to anyone who was known to be in that area last night; employees of local businesses and the like. The reports are starting to come in."

There was a somewhat strained silence as they considered their options.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

**Part Three**

The librarian was watching the young man over at computer station number four. He was polite enough, quiet and hadn't caused any trouble but she had a natural aversion to people who looked like they'd just left Fight Club. He hadn't bothered anyone and seemed to just be quietly working on something but enough was enough.

"Excuse me, sir, but you've exceeded the twenty minute limit by almost an hour. I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

"Is anyone waiting for a machine?" The question wasn't nasty or belligerent but...

"Rules are rules, I'm sure you understand." Without protest, he logged off and, with a nod of thanks, left. It was okay, he had most of what he needed.

He stopped at a small bodega located on a side street for some basic supplies, keeping his head down and paying with cash. Leaving the store, he found an old baseball cap in the gutter. Old, worn and with the green logo 'John Deere' on the front; he wore it home.

He found a probably abandoned and stripped car in an overgrown lot and took the license plates. Next he went back to the safe house neighborhood and circled the block three times changing directions and the side of the street he walked on each time) before deciding it might be safe to go inside where he swapped out the stolen plates for Patty's legit ones. Patty was inside, leafing through a year old copy of Gotham Times. "We need to move."

"Where?"

"Away from here."

"Now?"

"Now." She took him at his word and within three minutes they were driving south,making sure to stay within the speed limit. She turned on the radio, already tuned to a local easy listening station but he changed it to an all news one. They didn't hear anything of interest but that didn't mean anything. With their resources the JLA and Titans had access to, it was a simple thing to control news flow.

"Where are we going?"

He saw an old road atlas on the back seat. Opening a page at random he held it where she could reach. Put your finger somewhere. She did as asked.

He looked. "We're going to Donnelly, Idaho."

They exchanged a look. "Okay."

Actually it would work out. They needed money and there was no way either Dick Grayson or Nightwing could use his usual sources without giving away too much. Donnelly was home to Tamarack ski resort so they should be able to get jobs easily enough, whether Patty could ski or not. It was a transient kind of place with a core of locals augmented by the usual ski bums, tourists and vacationers. It would be simple enough to disappear there and even easier to leave without warning if need be. Plus it had the added advantage of being large but not one of the super resorts like Aspen or Sun Valley. The odds of him running into anyone he knew was slight.

And he knew how to be careful.

Keep moving, don't leave any trail if they could, cover their tracks and fade into the surroundings. The JLA and the Titans were good, but so was he and he knew damn well that he could hold his own with any of them.

They didn't talk much for the first few hundred miles, each occupied with their own thoughts. Nightwing mainly planning their escape and Patty wondering what was going on, how she'd gotten caught up in this cowboys and Indians chase scene and how the hell she was going to get back to her own life. She secretly admitted to herself that this, _whatever_ it was, was the most exciting thing which had ever happened to her; tall, dark and handsome hero sweeps her up into his world of danger and intrigue and she was not only along for the ride but was actually helping him.

The other part of her was secretly scared to death but so far she wouldn't walk away. At least not yet. Her boring, hum-drum, run of the mill life would be waiting for her.

"Who's chasing us?" He didn't even spare her a glance. "I think I have a right to know if we're traveling companions."

He considered for s second and decided that she had a point. There was a fair to middling chance that neither one of them would be alive in a week or two so, "The JLA and the Titans are working together to bring me in or down."

"Why?" Crazy; Nightwing was one of the major good guys, incorruptible, honest, straight-shooting, beloved by the masses. It didn't make sense. "What did you do?"

He hesitated, not wanting to go into details. "I pissed off the wrong person."

"I'm guessing that 'I'm sorry' isn't going to cut it."

"It's a long shot." They drove in silence for another half hour or so. "'You getting hungry?"

"Famished."

"There's a rest stop in a few miles."

"Good." And she really had to pee.

"You do know that you don't have to stay with me, right? You're not a hostage or prisoner or anything like that. All you have to do is walk away."

She studied his face, drawn with pain, strain and exhaustion. "No, it's okay for now."

He parked in the last row in the stop's parking lot half in some pine trees and, checking to make sure no one was watching, changed the license plates again then moved the car around to the other side of the building.

* * *

><p>"No one fitting his description was admitted to any hospital, Urgent Care place or clinic anywhere within a two hundred mile radius of the hit."<p>

"What about private doctors?"

"We're checking but nothing so far."

"So either he wasn't badly injured or he's just gone underground."

"Or both."

Aquaman scowled as he listened. He'd been quiet until now, sitting back while the others debated, argued and disagreed about why they should do about the situation. "With all respect, Batman (the sarcasm was thick), what exactly has your protege done to warrant an general alarm and APB for both the League and the Titans?"

"I have first-hand proof that he not only let a wanted criminal go during an arrest, fatally injuring a Bludhaven police officer in the process but also accepted payment for doing so."

There was a murmur of disbelief around the room. Nightwing, the former Robin taking a dive and a bribe? Being a party to the death of a fellow officer—wasn't he working as a Bludhaven cop now? _Nightwing? _"You have proof of these allegations?" Green Arrow wasn't any more ready to accept this than any of the others.

"Seriously, _Dick_? Impossible. If nothing else, it's not like he needs the money."

"I'd suggest that you recuse yourself, Flash. We all know you two are close friends. I'd hate to think you'd be unable to be impartial in this."

Wally's lips tightened, though he controlled his temper. "You said you have proof? I think we'd all like to see it."

A single nod and Batman pressed two keys on the master computer control board. A large, full screen surveillance video played. It was black and white, poorly lit, grainy and the movements were jerky but it showed Nightwing—unmistakeably Dick Grayson to anyone who knew him as well as the people in the room—in what appeared to be a hotel room. He was standing, talking while Catwoman, or lounged, on a couch. The sound was bad but clear enough.

CW: "So, you're sure we're set? You know how much I hate being locked up in those silly jail cells."

NW: "I've cleared everything with the precinct captain. You'll be picked up, the paddy wagon will have a flat tire, the door lock will be broken. The rest is up to you."

CW: "And no one knows, right?"

NW: "Just you and me. Now, I hate to seem rushed but if you don't mind..."

CW: (laughter) "Men! You're all alike, impatient." (She placed a briefcase on the coffee table, opened it to reveal bundles of money) "Do you want to count it?"

NW: (closing the lid and snapping the locks closed) "I trust you—well, within reason. If the count's off you'll be hearing from me."

The scene shifts, as does the camera angle. The scene was now in a large garage and there is no sound. NW walks into frame carrying the case. He straps it to the back of his motorcycle and is about to put on his helmet when two uniformed police officers approach him. He swings himself onto the bike and, in the same motion, starts the machine, gunning the throttle and peeling out before they can react. The closest officer is knocked over. His gun belt catches on the handlebar, dragging him fifteen to twenty feet before he's violently slammed into a building support column.

"The man died later that night, massive head injury." Batman stopped the tape.

"How was the press contained?"

"I called in some favors, Diana."

"I assume the bills were marked?"

"It seems not, so no help there. Now, any questions?"

There were none voiced. At least not then.

"Good. Now find him and bring him in. His being at large is a danger to all of us."

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

**Part Four**

The road trip continued, they never went over the speed limit, they changed license plates every two states or so and they kept as low a profile as was possible. Somewhere in the middle of the country they stopped at a Wal-mart for a few things; clean clothes, tape for Dick's ribs, some snacks, disposable (and untraceable) cell phones, some CD's for the car and a few magazines and crossword puzzle books to pass the time. They ate at fast food places, they slept (when they slept) in Comfort Inns and Holiday Inns. 'Wing always paid from a large roll of bills he kept with him. He used computers at public libraries and checked newspapers and websites for anything which might pertain to anything.

"Y'know, 'Wing is not exactly low-profile. Is there something else you answer to?"

She had a good point. "Robbie too obvious?"

"Yuh."

"John."

"John? As in 'Doe'?"

"Okay, how about Phineas?"

"Seriously?"

"Yes, seriously, call me 'Finn'."

"Dare I ask why?"

"Phineas Taylor Barnum—as in 'my life is a circus'."

She gave him an indecipherable look. "Whatever, Finn."

* * *

><p>The APB was kept on the down-low. No police departments were notified, the FBI, CIA and Interpol were unaware of any problem. This was being dealt with internally with both the JL and the Titans on the case of finding and bringing in a rogue Nightwing, preferably unharmed. It was not, however, a unanimous decision.<p>

"I think it's bullshit; Dick wouldn't flip out, turn to the dark side or do anything off the straight and narrow. It's just not him, no way, no how."

Donna agreed, though is less graphic terms. "He's the heart and center of what we do, it's just impossible and I refuse to believe it about him. Something else is going on."

"Then how do you explain those films?" Garth was upon the surface for a few weeks and felt like he'd walked into a swarm of Men O'War. Of course he didn't really believe Dick would do anything like he'd been accused of but they were supposed to be trained professionals and go by evidence, not emotional responses.

Roy shook his head, he couldn't explain them. "Until we know otherwise—and I'm not just talking about the fact that this is Dick and out of character—we need to do our jobs and try to bring him in."

"Yeah, but maybe the fact that this is Dick is reason enough to question this whole thing."

The original Titans, the ones who had known Dick Grayson for a decade, silently agreed but knew they had to find out what was really going on before they could sign off and get back to their lives.

* * *

><p>Pulling into the small mom and pop rental cabin park on a two lane blacktop secondary road, Patty ("Okay, fine, call me 'Heather'") watched Finn sign the register, both of them wearing the cheap wedding rings he'd picked up at a Sears about two hundred miles ago.<p>

"It's better cover if people think we're married; it's a change up from just looking for a single/white/male."

She nodded, he was right. Strategy-wise it made sense.

She'd used the disposable cell phone to call her doctor bosses and her family to let them know she was taking a week or so off to get over a breakup with a boyfriend and they weren't to worry about her. She was fine and just taking some personal time for herself.

She was still asking herself why she'd agreed to go along with this whole thing. It was dangerous, that was plain and she didn't really know why they were being chased or by whom though she had her (accurate) suspicions. Patty wasn't a stupid woman; she was self-aware and introspective enough to delve into the whys of her playing along.

For starters, it was exciting, something unexpected and once in a life time of for someone who had lived her live by the rules. She was flattered by the attention of this incredibly beautiful, intelligent and accomplished—let along famous—man. It was a spark of incredible in her run of the mill day to day. And, she reluctantly admitted, it was romantic in a Harlequin romance kind of way. The two of them, against all odds, running free, dodging the forces out to stop them.

It was fantasy in a world or reality and, in her heart of hearts, she didn't really think anything bad, like them getting killed, would happen. It was the ultimate game of tag or cops and robbers, cloak and dagger, hide and seek.

It wouldn't last all that long but while it did, it was turning into a helluva ride. Besides all of that, and probably most importantly, she believed him, that he was innocent of whatever he was being accused or chased for.

He was decent, that was apparent and she simply didn't think he could be guilt of whatever he was running from. It made more sense to her that he was hiding from some criminals he'd had a run-in with., though why _Nightwing _would need to hide was beyond her. Something wasn't adding up but she couldn't accept that he was the bad guy here.

Maybe she was being naïve or stupid, but there it was. If the time came for her to pay the piper, the piper would be paid.

Settled into the small cabin nestled against the woods, 'Wing—Finn—tossed his wallet on the bed, stripping off his shirt. "I'm going to take a shower and then we can get something to eat, 'okay with you?" The wallet was filled with fake ID, a fake driver's license (several, with several different names), fake credit cards, fake social security card, fake medical insurance. She neither knew nor cared where he'd gotten them.

"'Sounds good."

And that was the other thing; he was _nice._ He hadn't made a pass at her, hadn't done or said anything a gentleman wouldn't—aside from the whole taking her across the country thing, though that had been with her cooperation. She could leave whenever she wanted, she believed that, even though she had some serious doubts. If this was as dire as he made it out to be, he might not have been kidding when he said she could know but then he'd have to kill her.

The phrase 'Stockholm Syndrome' went through her mind more than once.

A few minutes later he was clean, changed and they were in search of a diner.

He continued to read newspapers and check the library computer for any mention of anything which would indicate he was being followed (though he knew he was). He never found anything.

At one point he considered contacting Babs to see what was happening but stopped himself as soon as the thought entered his mind. If she was on his side and knew anything she'd be compromised by talking to or helping him. If she wasn't supporting him he'd be giving too much away by contacting her. The same went for his friends in the Titans and the Outsiders; forget it, forget them.

But Jesus, he hated this living on the lam crap. Patty was okay but enough was enough. It was a matter of time before one of them slipped or the rest of the heroes got lucky and then the game would be well and truly over.

* * *

><p>"It is absolutely beyond me how the greatest collective heroes on the damn planet can have so much trouble finding one person."<p>

"Lighten up, Bruce. This isn't just anyone, this is Nightwing we're talking about here. It's not like he's going to make stupid mistakes or take out an ad in the Times announcing his plans."

"Has anyone made a connection to Dick being MIA and the report of that girl going AWOL about the same time from the same block?"

"It's been checked; she called her boss and some family members; she's fine, just decided to take some time off."

"How do we know she wasn't saying that under duress?"

"We don't but her family had no reason to be suspicious and have a number to call her, which they've done without problem,. Same with her employers."

So much for that.

Green Lantern looked up from the laptop he was working on. "Do we have any reason to think he's still in the US?"

"We have no reason to think he either is or isn't anywhere. I'm assuming that the airlines, shipping and border crossing have all been checked?"

Oliver answered. "Of course and the checks are ongoing but nothing has come through positive. We're dealing with not just Dick Grayson, we're dealing with Nightwing; he's as good as it gets and we all know that. He could well skunk us trying to find him."

"That's unacceptable."

"Maybe, but it's reality, Bats."

"Yeah, well I still have doubts about this whole thing—too out of character, if you ask me."

"I didn't."

* * *

><p>They were getting close to Idaho. "What are we going to do when we get there?"<p>

"Get jobs, blend in, keep a low profile and then probably move on."

"Any thoughts about what jobs? Are we talking Dollar Store or CEO of the local bank?"

"I was think maybe something snow related; you ski, right?"

Patty rolled her eyes, "'Can't say that I do, but I can hyper-extend my left thumb, 'think that will help?"

He gave her a look. "Wait tables?"

"I can do that." They were getting into mountain country, Patty was loving the scenery. "I think I should have a new name, too."

"You don't like Heather?"

"'Sucks. Mata Hari?"

"Very funny."

"Tammy. I've always liked that song."

They rolled into Donnelly the next day. It was late November, the start of early ski season and Tamarack Ski Corp* was hiring. Dick—Finn—was taken on as an instructor for the kids program after showing enough of his ability to get a job but not enough to draw any real attention or to do more damage to his healing ribs. Patty—now Tammy—was hired at a high end pizza place catering to tourists. Their story was that they were newlyweds looking for adventure and maybe a place to settle down. They found a small apartment which Dick paid for from his stash and which they furnished—barely—from the local Goodwill and Craig's List. No one questioned them.

* * *

><p>Two weeks had passed since the initial attack on Nightwing, DickFinn was largely healed from his injuries though his ribs were still sore and bruised. He and Patty/Tammy were doing well with their new jobs, making friends and having a surprisingly good time.

Simply because of the time they spent together, coupled with the shared secrets, they'd formed a bond and were becoming genuine friends. It wasn't romantic, but it was a connection they both enjoyed.

"So how come you've never tried to jump me?" She'd just gotten off work, had brought back a pizza and they were sitting at the scarred 50's table.

"Do you want me to?"

"I don't know—maybe. Or not. I think it would be weird at this point. You know what they say about sex screwing up a good friendship."

"So I've heard."

"'You believe that? Do you have any women who are just friends, no sex?" Was her serious? Sometimes it was hard to tell but he didn't sound like he was joking.

"Sure, of course. Why, don't you have any platonic male friends?"

"Of course I do." She contemplated her slice. "It's too late for us to have sex, maybe a week or so ago, but now it's too late. We've gone past it."

"Okay."

"Okay? You're okay with that?"

"Pretty much. 'You?"

"Yeah, I am."

"Good."

She nodded, they didn't need the complication.

Their new life was about to blow up.

The next morning around ten Dick was on the slopes with a class of intermediate level housewives, trying to show them some tricks to help them control their slalom moves.

"Grayson, Dude? What the hell are you doing here? 'Bruce around?"

Wha? "Excuse me?

"I thought you were back east doing the cop thing. What, you got kicked out already?"

Shitshitshit, Joey Whiting had been maybe two years behind him back in high school. "Sorry man, I think you've mistaken me for someone else; my name is Finn Mackey, I was born and raised in Wyoming, 'never been east of Denver."

"You sure as hell look like him, Buddy." A closer look gave lie to that idea; Grayson wouldn't be caught dead wearing that cheap-ass parka or Wal-mart jeans on a slope. Now that he really checked, one of the fingers on his right glove was splitting at the seam. Grayson wore top of the line; this guy could have been a brother, though

With better things to do, Joey finished his run then headed back to the lift, any thoughts of Dick Grayson gone.

*In the real world Tamarck Resort/Ski Area is suffering serious financial problems, lawsuits, possible foreclosure and bankrupcy. They are attempting to reopen but for our purposes, let's pretend that they're as right as rain, solvent, fat and happy.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

**Part Five**

Dick/Finn left the slope as soon as the lesson was over, went directly over to the pizza place and kissed Patty/Tammy ton reinforce their cover as newlyweds then held a whispered conversation.

"We're gone."

"When?"

"Now."

She nodded. "Fred? Is it okay if I take a break?"

"Sure, sweetie, just be back before the lunch crowd."

She nodded, grabbed her jacket, the two of them spent a total of ten minutes throwing some clothes into her car and were on the road out of town inside of half an hour. "Why?"

"I was recognized a little while ago by someone I went to school with, I tried to throw him off the scent, but I don;t know if he bought it or not."

"Where next? 'Vegas?"

"Too big, too many...wait, sure. We'll get lost in the crowd."

"You don't have to come; give people some story about us having a big fight and taking a quick break from marriage."

"No. I'm with you, at least for now."

He was torn between wanting her company and cover and leaving without her but in the end opted for the status quo. They set a roundabout route to Nevada, changing license plates when the stopped in the long term parking lot of Boise's airport.

They took their time driving, stopping here and there after picking up some camping gear at yet another Wal-mart along with some hair dye. They were passing through Carson City when Dick stopped to get some papers and check the library's computer for news.

There it was, what he'd been dreading for a couple of weeks now; _'There are strong rumors, unconfirmed at this writing, that an unnamed senior member of the Hero Community has fallen off the straight and narrow path. The buzz is that he (yes, it's a 'he') is being sought by his fellow do-gooders for some major infractions of the code. It's assumed that he's gone underground, is on the run or is otherwise evading his former co-workers.'_

"Fuck."

"_Sir_, I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

He looked up at the angry librarian. "'Sorry, I was just going." He cleared the history and logged off. Shit. He got into the car as Patty handed him his own McDonald's bagged lunch. "Change of plans, we're going to do some more camping then see what's happening and then maybe hit 'Vegas for that lost in the crowd idea."

"Has someone found you?"

"Not yet but it looks like the press blackout is about to fall apart. As soon as that happens every cop in the country will be looking over their shoulder for me."

At JL headquarters Batman was in a worse mood than usual. "Which idiot talked to the press?" He pulled the article up onto the main monitor scree, gave everyone a moment to skim over it and repeated the question.

"You know this will now open this mess up to every law enforcement agency on the planet who then begin an investigation as to what the problem is, why it happened and why we suppressed the story."

Green Lantern seemed unimpressed. "Probably, but you might want to take a look in the mirror as to who set the ground rules for this particular little dust-up."

Without deigning to answer (to no ones surprise) Batman walked out, throwing "Find him" over his shoulder as he went.

They ended up camping at Mesquite Spring Campground in Death Valley. It was ten dollars a night, almost deserted this time of year and supplied them with running water. It would be fine for a week or so.

"I know you're probably used to stuff like this, but am I the only one who's freezing my ass of?" Patty/Heather/Tammy was shivering next to the camp fire.

"We'll get you warmer clothing. And we need new names again." Dick/Finn commented.

"I'm wearing warm clothing. This place is stupid cold." She was getting testy; this was wearing thin, she wasn't sure about this whole adventure thing and was seriously considering bugging out.

He put some more wood on the fire, It was to late in the season for there to be many people at the camp site and there were only about thirty or so sites there, anyway. Aside from a couple of hardcore hikers, they had the place to themselves, using the 'honeymoon' excuse for wanting to get away from everyone while maintaining a friendly facade for their camp-mates.

"Looking on the bright side, it's cold enough that we shouldn't have to worry about rattlesnakes."

"Are you fucking serious?"

Wrong thing to say. "Kidding, just kidding." He put some milk in a pan and placed it over the fire.

"What are you doing?"

"Making hot chocolate."

"...Thank you." Silence descended with evening. "So, what's it like?"

"What's what like?"

"Being (she lowered her voice so the other campers couldn't possibly hear) you. Nightwing. Good or bad?"

"Both. Good would be stopping criminals before they can hurt anyone else. Bad would be watching friends get hurt or killed."

It wasn't much of an answer, all things considered.

More silence broken by the snapping of the fire. "Did you do it?" He looked a question at her. "Kill that guy, the one who was thrown into that pillar."

"...I guess I contributed to it, but it wasn't intentional."

"Did you take that bribe?" He'd told her about it the second day in the car after leaving the East. "I mean, I know you said you didn't, but did you?"

He didn't say anything, just sipped his chocolate.

"That's the money we're living on, isn't it?"

Nothing.

"And that's why you're hiding out and not turning yourself in or trying to deny the charges or whatever they are."

He held his cup, probably for the warmth. "You know you can leave whenever you want."

"Who is it you're running from, Batman, the police?"

"I told you; The JLA and the Titans. Now that the story is breaking, the police, the FBI and probably Interpol will be on board as well."

"But this doesn't make sense; you're too smart to think you can evade all of them for long, why are you doing this?"

He didn't answer her question but knew she was, obviously, right. He'd known that from the moment he'd accepted that briefcase full of money from Selina.

Patty was watching his face, though and it was clear to her that he knew more about what was going on that he was admitting, which didn't surprise her, she wondered what he was hiding.

Bruce had his social face on, along with his party manners. It was another of those vapid charity dinners he was forced to so he could maintain his image and they were all the same. Wine, small talk, a silent auction everyone had to buy some overpriced donated whatever, dinner followed by a live auction then home and to bed by 10:30. He wasn't even sure what good cause they were supporting this evening, not that it mattered to him.

He was doing his best not to let the others at his table see his eyes glazing when Ann Whiting touched his arm, "...Bruce, I swear, you looked like you were a million miles away just now."

"Never with you here, Annie." He gave her her best smile and it was a very good one, indeed.

"I thought you'd be amused by something Joey sent me last week." She pulled out a crystal encrusted smart phone, played with it for a moment and then handed it over. If he'd been in a sit-com he'd have likely done a spit-take.

"Where did Joey run into Dick?" It was obviously on some ski-slope somewhere, but the emphasis was on where.

"Oh no, that's why I thought you'd be amused; that isn't Dick, it's just some ski instructor out in Tamarack who looks just like him. Even Joey was fooled for a minute until he got a real look."

Jesus. "How does he know it isn't Dick?"

"I'm not sure, he just said it wasn't. Something wrong, Bruce? Really, if you get a good look it doesn't look all that much like him, it's just the first impression."

He make a conscious effort to relax his face into a smile. "No, no you're right—it's just at first sight, but no. The nose is different and this fellow looks taller, too. Who is he, did Joey get a name by any chance?"

"Oh, I don't think so. He's just a ski bum, and you know how that kind are; flighty, here today and gone as soon as they save up enough money for the next mountain. Oh, they're starting the auction with a week at your island—you secret keeper! You didn't tell me you'd donated that—just tell me, does Alfred come with it?"

"Alfred? Good lord, no! He'd come home to a corpse if he left me that long!"

Tamarack last week? He was on it.

Within an hour he knew that Finn Mackey who was working as a ski instructor and his bride, Tammy who'd been waiting tables at some pizza place had taken off five days ago. They'd abandoned their apartment, never asked for their paychecks and left no forwarding address. No one had heard from them since and they were written off as just another couple of unreliable ski-bums.

But it was a starting point and with that Dick could be caught and stopped.

He notified the League and the Titans.

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

**Part Six**

None of this made sense. The more Patty thought about it and, more importantly, the longer she lived it, the less and less anything added up.

This was Nightwing they were talking about. _Nightwing._

He was acknowledged to be the former Robin who'd trained and worked with batman since he was a child. He was world famous, honored and respected by almost everyone on the planet. He could write his own ticket anywhere he went and, according to conventional wisdom and common sense. He had more money than he knew what to do with just to be able to afford all the custom stuff he used. Cars, planes, weapons, that costume, f'godssake. It all had to have cost a small fortune.

Him suddenly going bad, helping a major criminal escape prison for money was ridiculous. Well, it was hard to believe, at best.

Beyond all of that, she'd spent almost 24/7 with him for almost a month now, it just flat-out didn't fly and she didn't buy it.

Something was seriously screwed here.

They'd left the campsite and were hiking along one of the higher trails. It was cold, there was snow on the ground, footing was bad and she would have killed for a Motel 6. Taking a break, Finn, or whatever he was calling himself today, was back with some dry branches for a fire.

"You okay?"

"I'm cold. Have you seen anything about you being caught any time recently?"

"Maybe."

"...Do you have a plan or were you going to be on the run the rest of your life?" She was fed up, tired of playing this game and, with everything in her, believed that it while he may have taken the money (everyone was going through hard times, right?) the idea that he may have hurt that cop on purpose or even through carelessness was just stupid. She plain didn't buy it.

He got small blaze going and started meting some snow for tea to warm them up. "I think this will end soon."

Really? "Why?"

He seemed reluctant but answered her. "I didn't take a bribe—whether anyone believes that or not and I have some serious doubts about that officer being killed."

"You don't think he's dead? He faked it?"

"Or someone faked it enough that people bought it."

"So someone wanted to ruin your reputation, put you out of commission?"

He pulled out a couple of tea bags and two metal mugs. "No, probably not, but I think someone is framing me for their own reasons."

"And your reaction is to run and hide? Seriously, _Nightwing_?"

Finn met her eyes for a moment then pulled out his cellphone.

* * *

><p>At the headquarters of UPI (United Press International) in Washington, DC and at AP (Associated Press) in New York, a conference call was in progress between the two news agencies and Batman.<p>

_UPI: So, batman, are yo saying that Nightwing has gone rogue in some way and is now being hunted by both the Justice League and the Titans._

_Batman: I'm afraid that's the case, yes._

_UPI: And it's true that he's been In hiding for between two and three weeks now? Do you have any information where he may be?_

_B'man: We have information, yes and are following through._

_AP: You're maintaining that he took a bribe from Catwoman to aid in her release from prison?_

_B'man: We suspect so but will go through due process of the law._

_AP: You have proof?_

_B'man: Circumstantial proof but, in our profession, that's more than enough to raise alarms and we must find out what's happened, why and bring him in._

No one missed the fact that Batman was actually going out of his way to make a statement about the man most people assumed was his former protege. The real question was why.

* * *

><p>Wonder Woman and Superman were sitting up in the JLA satellite. No one else was there and they had privacy.<p>

"So, what do you think about this, the thing with Nightwing?"

"I think Batman has an agenda."

Diana shifted in her chair. "Meaning?"

"I don't think it's as clear cut as he's presenting it. It's out of character for Dick to take a bribe, even if he needed the money, which he doesn't and the surveillance tape is ambiguous."

Diana nodded but didn't say anything.

"You agree?"

"Yes, the question, of course, is what are we going to do about it? If Bruce is telling the truth about this whole thing, which I don't assume, then he's in serious trouble on a number of levels, not the least of which is misusing his influence as a member of the League." She took a sip of her tea. "If we look at this mess objectively, what does Batman have to discredit Nightwing? What possible motive could he have and is Dick cooperating or an innocent victim? Start with that."

Superman looked out one of the windows to the moon's remarkably clear image less than five thousand miles away. "You're right, Batman never does anything randomly. Assuming that Dick is innocent, whether he's in on this or not, Bruce planned this for some reason and either Dick is playing along or he's really worried about the consequences of being apprehended."

"Do you think it may be possible that he really did take a bribe?" Diana got to the heart of the issue, or one of them.

"No, do you?"

Diana shook her head. "We've all known him since he was a child and, as you said, he hardly needs the money. If you add that to the fact that he personally and professionally dislikes Catwoman it becomes farfetched."

"So Batman is doing this because...?"

She pushed a few buttons on the main keyboard, accessing her personal files. "Have you seen this?

* * *

><p>"Master Bruce, I'm beyond words with what's happening between you and Master Richard and I lay the blame entirely on your shoulders."<p>

"He made his decision and he has to deal with the consequences."

Alfred gave him a look which would have brought him to tears when he was ten years old and still had an effect. "That is most certainly not the case and I'm as aware of it as you are. In all truth, I find what you're doing to be unconscionable. I can only hope your plan, whatever it may in fact be, includes making amends to the lad."

"You don't know what's going on, Alfred."

Another look which could being Bruce to his knees. "Perhaps, but I most certainly know enough to see that things are not as they're being presented and I suggest that I may well not be the only person to come to that conclusion. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have an engagement."

There were no smells of food coming from the kitchen and it was pushing seven, That was a first."What about dinner?"

"Might I suggest a reputable pizza delivery establishment?"

* * *

><p>Batman spent the almost the entire night down in the cave, working the computer and every lead and contact he could think of to find Nightwing. When he didn't get the answer he wanted he moved up to th JLA satellite and hit the computers, GPS's and databanks there after questioning every member for information.<p>

"I've been through this with you already. We're looking but Nightwing is the best; he's not going to just show himself or make a stupid mistake. We haven't even been able to isolate what continent he's on."

Batman stared for long moments at Green Arrow before speaking. "Try again. Start tracing him from Tamarack, trace the car they were last seen in, trace the plates, trace the girl, find out who her friends are, her relatives. See if she had college roommates, old boyfriends. _Find him_."

"That information is almost a week old, it's useless." GA stopped talking, knowing there was no point. "Aye-aye, sir."

Not surprisingly, there was no reaction to his sarcasm.

* * *

><p>Roy saw who the call was from and removed himself to his private and soundproofed quarters, walking away from the catcalls of his friends wondering who 'she' was this time.<p>

Door closed, he answered; "Yeah?"

"I think I know what's happening but may need some help to get my theory heard."

"Where and when?"

"And this is between you and me."

"You got it."

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

**Part Seven**

**Conclusion**

"You've got to be shitting me."

Dick gave Roy a look.

"Okay, I believe you but this is nuts."

They'd met in a suburb of Chicago, room number 387 of a Holiday Inn along an Interstate. Dick had copies of documents and files on his cell phone which he'd downloaded to a new I-Book, making a point of not connecting to the internet. He wouldn't even tell one of his oldest friends where he'd gotten the information. "It's not nuts...okay, paranoid and compulsive but it makes sense in a warped way."

"Which is the only way Batman deals." Roy looked at the evidence again. "Jesus; so what are we going to do about it? You know that if this is turned over the the League he'll be bounced at the very least."

"Yeah."

"You're okay with that? I mean, shit, he's either using you as a guinea pig or he really thinks you're a threat. Either way it's screwed up."

"Not from his perspective and I'm not okay with his; I just understand why he's doing it."

Roy looked over at his friend, shaking his head. "I can't believe you're still defending the bastard."

"I'm not, I'm just saying I see why he did it."

"And you're just going along like this is okay? When did you figure out what game he's playing, f'christsakes?

"Maybe two weeks ago, that's when I was sure. I suspected when I heard about the surveillance tape..."

"Because you didn't take a bribe from Selina."

"Right. I played along because, I don't know—I guess to see what he'd do. I suspected I was being taped wither with audio or video, or maybe both. "

"Because...?"

"Because Selina wasn't acting like herself, something was off and then she started talking about the possible repercussions and had I thought it through, thought about what the Bat and the other vigilantes would do. It was almost like she was trying to tell me something."

"Wait, wait—you're telling me she knew this was a set up for you and not her?"

"I think, I don't have proof yet but I think the Bat somehow got her to play along with him on this for some reason."

"Again, because...?"

"I'm still working on that. Maybe he agreed to take her to dinner or get her a kitten for her birthday. I don't know but whatever it was, it worked."

"But I still don't get why any of this happened; what's his motive, what's in it for him?"

"I think he might just wanted to see what would happen if the word went out that one of us went off."

"You're a crazy as he is."

"No, I just know how he thinks. And there's more..."

* * *

><p>"Are you kidding me? He set up his own protege, son, whatever the hell Dick is this week, purposely to see how the rest of us would react if he had to be taken down? What a jackass."<p>

"You're gonna love this, it gets better; he has plans in place to take down every one of us in case we flip out or something and become dangerous. He's made a study of our individual weaknesses and ways to exploit them."

Aquaman and Green Arrow were on a com link, knowing that probably half the league, Oracle and maybe the entire friends list on Facebook were listening.

"Sonofabitch."

"I think he's gone too far; I think we should talk to the others, get a consensus and see where the majority stand on this thing."

Arthur gave Ollie a hard look. "Are you suggesting some kind of punishment for the Bat? He'll never accept it."

"He can't argue with an unanimous vote to disbar him, throw him out on his ass."

"Well just speaking for myself, I know I don't want to work with him at this point and I suspect a lot of the others will feel the same."

Ollie stared into the monitor. "At least for a while. Diana called a full meeting tonight, we'll see what happens then."

* * *

><p>The road trip back east was quiet for the most part. It wasn't until they were pulling into the suburbs of Bludhaven that Patty actually asked the obvious question. "When did you realize what was going on?"<p>

Not that he'd actually told her his suspicions. His actions and a few snatched parts of partial phone conversations were all she had to go on, but they told her where his thought were going.

"I suspected about two or so weeks ago, then finally managed to hack the right computer and the right files a few days ago, that's when I had proof."

"So that's why you called that friend of yours."

"Yes."

"And he's going to do whatever he's going to do to help you and get this mess straightened out."

"Yes."

"But, I don't understand; did you suspect all the time or not. I mean, you knew you hadn't really taken a bribe and I get this has something to do with Batman and the Justice League but you're not in the JLA, are you? Why does this involve you?"

He hesitated and took a drink from the sodas they'd picked up at a McDonald's drive-thru a hundred miles back. "Batman likes to have every base covered, every possibility thought through and an answer to every question before anyone asks."

Patty started to say something but changed her mind. There was no point in trying for details and she knew it.

He signaled for her exit." Patty? You know that you can't ever talk about any of this, right?"

"We've talked about this and of course I do but what I'd really like to know is what you're going to do after all of this is over."

"I'm still me, I'm still Nightwing so I'll just keep doing that, being that—is that what you mean?"

"No, I mean how are you going to deal with the fallout? Even I know this is going to be a very big deal."

"I'll, I'll do just fine." Dick seemed confused by the question. "Besides, there are ways to contain things like this. If it does get into the press, I don't think it will go too far." He'd dropped her off close to her apartment, made sure she'd gotten inside all right and even arranged for dinner to be delivered since there was no food in the place and it was getting late.

* * *

><p>"Alfred, I need to speak with Bruce and he's not answering. 'Any idea where he is?"<p>

"I only wish I did, Master Richard. I haven't had contact myself with him in close to twenty-four hours."

"I'm guessing that I'm not the only one trying to find him, am I?"

Alfred shook his head, slowly and sadly. "Several members of the Justice League have called; they seemed –distressed."

Dick didn't bother to say anything; it wasn't like he was surprised. Besides, he knew Bruce well enough to know where he was likely to be, Alfred running interference for him or not.

* * *

><p>Nightwing walked into the Batcave calmly, one step at a time down the long staircase, stopping about a yard from Batman who was in the midst of hitting a punching bag.<p>

"You could have told me."

"No—punch—'wouldn't—punch—have been—punch—the same."

Because the reactions had to be real, right?"

"Of course." Punchpunchpunch.

"No matter what I went through?"

The punching stopped, Bruce panting very slightly as he turned and actually faced Dick. "I'm sorry about that, but for it to work, it had to be real. You couldn't know; 'you understand."

Dick didn't say anything, knowing it was useless and not knowing what words to use even if they would have even the smallest effect. He turned and walked back up the stairs, through the empty kitchen, out to his bike and down the long driveway.

* * *

><p>A week later the entire membership of the Justice League was assembled in the satellite to hear what, if anything, Batman had to say for himself. The rumor that several members were taking bets that he'd refuse to testify was unconfirmed. Every seat around the large table was taken and emotions, though running high were under control—so far. Everyone turned toward Batman.<p>

"Yes, of course I've drawn up plans as to how to take down any one of us should the need arise. We'd be fools if we didn't have something ready to go in the event... One of our basic premises is to be prepared for any eventuality and having one of us need, at some point, to be contained was among the things which had to be considered. I'd have been remiss if I hadn't."

"Did Nightwing know what was happening when he went underground?" Zantana's voice was quiet in the large room.

"I hadn't discussed it with him, no. He knew me well enough to start looking and he had the knowledge and the abilities to find out what was happening and why."

"May I ask what you'd have done if any one of us had actually apprehended him? What would your reaction be if he were injured—or worse—in some kind of attempt?"

Batman was an unimpressed "I know Nightwing can handle himself."

Clark commented, "Not to split hairs, but we _are _the Justice League. I think it's entirely possible that either he or one of us might have been injured if this had played out to the end. Had you considered that and what would you have done about it?"

"Like I said, Nightwing can take care of himself; he knows everyone in this room well enough to be ready for anything you might do or try to bring him in. Equally, everyone here is perfectly capable of defending themselves."

"It seems to me that you were placing too much on an assumption."

Black Canary shook her head. "It's beyond me how you put Dick—your nominal son—in that kind of danger without warning him and I also think your reasoning is that you had to have genuine reactions is complete garbage." She looked over at Green Arrow. "And Zantana is right; you pulled this without any kind of consideration as to what might have happened to any one of us, either. With his abilities and training he could well have killed someone."

"Dick wouldn't kill anyone."

Oliver slammed his hand on the table. "You seem damn certain for someone speaking through his ass."

Wonder Woman's voice cut through. "Enough of that. Is Dick here to tell his opinion of this 'Doomsday Plan' of yours?"

"Nightwing isn't available."

"Excuse me? Was he informed that we wished to hear his thoughts on this?"

Clark answered. "He's been informed, yes, but he's refusing to speak to anyone at the moment. I saw him this morning and he insisted—and I think correctly—that he's far too angry to be unbiased until he's had time to cool down."

"I don't blame him." Flash was furious not just at what had happened but that one of his closest friends had been placed in potentially mortal danger for one of Batman's security experiments.

"So the question is what are we going to do about this situation—if anything." Diana looked around the table, inviting comment and debate.

In a group of outsized and dynamic personalities, no one seemed to know what to say. After a too long silence J'onn J'onzz broke the awkward silence. "I suggest that we reconvene in a few weeks when emotions aren't running so high."

Green Arrow violently shook his head. "The hell with that. Decide now. Vote—is he in or out. If he's out then for how long?"

It took two hours but the decision was finally agreed upon. Wonder Woman stood up and made the pronouncement:

"Batman's membership in the Justice League is, by general and mutual agreement lifted and revoked until further notice. The subject would be revisited in due course."

Batman, showing no emotion or reaction of any kind, left the satellite.

* * *

><p>Alfred Pennyworth had driven down to Bludhaven since the young master was declining to answer either his phone or his e-mail. "I'm outraged at the League's decision, Master Richard. I truly am." He was pacing, actually pacing in the small apartment. "You must come back to the Manor and speak with him, make him understand that this is just temporary and everything will be back to normal before long., I beg of you."<p>

Dick had listened without comment, letter Alfred have his say them picked an apple from the bowl on the counter. "He made his bed..."

"Richard, you must, you have to..."

"No, Alf, I don't."

5/28/11


End file.
